


Unconditional

by dallonation



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M, brallon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 08:50:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3930556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dallonation/pseuds/dallonation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendon has a habit of stealing all the covers in bed at night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unconditional

**Author's Note:**

> just a fluffy one-shot someone requested on tumblr and i'm posting it here - enjoy!

1:54 AM. The light of a full moon subtly shines through the smudged window pane of a cheap motel room on its sixth floor. The outline of two bodies close together under a single, thin, white sheet are all that can be seen with the ever so slight illumination from the sky.

Despite the ample amount of space in the queen-sized motel bed they shared, somehow Dallon and Brendon gradually drifted from opposite ends of the bed and into each other’s arms without trying to. the crippling, cold temperature of the room was most likely what drew them closer together. Perhaps it made it easier to stay warm under the one lone blanket the motel provided. Perhaps it was for another reason.

As much as they would have liked to stay somewhere with even a modicum of class and more than one bed, they didn’t have much of a choice. Once the band got off stage, they got the news that their tour bus was taken to the shop during their show. Apparently, the engine severely overheated just as they began “Girls/Girls/Boys.” And now they were out a place to stay for the night. Neither boy had any family or relative in the area so there was no place to spend the night without having to empty their wallets. Management laid it out for them that they couldn’t get their bus back until tomorrow afternoon and that there was nothing else they could do from their position. Dallon and Brendon’s only valid option was a shitty motel that had one last room available: a cheap couple’s room with one large bed. As drained and exhausted as they were after a two-hour show, they took the deal. Anything if it meant they could get just a few hours of sleep.

The room itself looks exactly how it sounds; a cheap couple’s bedroom in a shitty motel. The stench of hard liquor wafts in the air, circulated by the aged air conditioning unit in the wall near the only window. Faded wallpaper peels off the walls, exposing the damaged wood behind it. The cheap carpet is stained in numerous places with god knows what and the single bathroom may as well be a public restroom stall with its given size. And then there’s an old, round screen television set on a scratched up dresser in the front of the room across from the only thing that matters: the queen sized bed with only one, thin, white sheet laid on top of it and two pillows in the center of the room.

Whether they should sleep in the same bed wasn’t even a question. Brendon and Dallon were close in friendship and being close in proximity was nothing different, nothing new. This was something they were completely comfortable doing and they both knew how eager they were to get some shut-eye.

Both boys lay on their sides, bodies facing each other now, Brendon’s back to the window and Dallon’s to the door. Their bare limbs are carelessly intertwined as they breathe quietly underneath the whir of the rusty air conditioning unit. Their heads to keep the closeness between them generates heat, their skin more than warm despite only being covered by a paper-thin sheet.

The only items of clothing Brendon has on are his boxers. Should he have had his own bed, he wouldn’t be wearing anything at all. But since he is sharing tonight, he needed to wear something for the sake of decency, and he preferred what felt like the closest thing to nothing. Dallon, the same only with the exception of his hanes tank top that has a tendency to ride up over his waist when he unintentionally shifts his position.

Dallon’s legs are gently bent and crossed over Brendon’s, their ankles meeting each other beneath the translucent sheet. Strong arms are gently cradling Brendon’s head against his chest, his left hand having weaved itself into Brendon’s dark, tousled hair unintentionally. With every breath that Dallon takes, Brendon’s head follows. Every rise and fall of his chest moves Brendon slightly, the soothing sound of Dallon’s heartbeat is surely audible to him as he sleeps. Dallon’s chin rests on the top of Brendon’s head comfortably as a result of their drastic height difference. Both of Brendon’s hands are lazily placed against the deep collar of Dallon’s tank top, just below his neck. Brendon’s exhales send waves of warmth over Dallon’s sternum that’s only an inch or two away from his parted lips and once and a while, Dallon shivers.

From a different point of view, it could be said that there's something protective to the way he holds Brendon so tightly in his arms. Almost like a parent determined to protect their child. It could also be said that both Brendon and Dallon look like they feel at home in such an intimate embrace.

A cold gust of wind blows through the open window, gently stirring Dallon in the way his eyebrows knit and he instinctively pulls brendon a little closer. Brendon feels it as well, small goosebumps peppering his soft skin as he winces. Without meaning to, he decides to roll over, out of Dallon’s strong arms. With him, brendon takes the entire sheet he was previously sharing to the left side of the bed, leaving Dallon with nothing to cover himself.

Dallon immediately feels the absence of Brendon’s body heat at the overwhelming jolt of cold to his system, so much so that it wakes him up. Suddenly freezing and confused, Dallon opens his eyes, blinking repeatedly until his vision focuses. He raises his head off of his pillow and sees what he realizes as Brendon’s back, practically swaddled in their only blanket. He looks down at his blanketless body and back to Brendon’s, finally comprehending what must have happened as he slowly relaxes. Dallon’s head falls back onto his pillow and he exhales heavily in meager frustration at his clueless friend.

Now normally, his first instinctive move is to attempt to wake Brendon up. This can be done by shaking him or yelling at him vigorously. Tugging the sheets back was definitely not an option, considering how wrapped up in them Brendon was. Dallon couldn’t do it even if he tried. Dallon props himself up on his elbow, reaching his other arm over to Brendon’s shoulder lazily. His fingers graze over Brendon’s soft skin, gripping it gently. He rocks Brendon’s shoulder back and forth, tenderly at first. When no response is evoked, he repeats the process, this time with a little bit more force.

“B…” Dallon whispers. Brendon remains undisturbed. “B…” he urges a little louder, halfway between a whisper and actually speaking. Brendon offers all but a soft ‘mmm’ in response, tugging the blanket over him more tightly. Dallon sighs defeatedly at this, letting his weight fall onto the elbow he stands himself up on. Brendon was always more of a heavy sleeper, and even if he wasn’t the fact still remained that both of them had had a long night. He couldn’t blame brendon for being so unresponsive. In fact, now that he was thinking about it, he felt a little bad for even trying.

But the feeling of another cold breeze flowing through the open window against Dallon’s skin makes him feel a little less sorry. Shuddering at how the temperature stung as it made contact with his skin, Dallon pulls at the hem of his tanktop, bringing it back down over his torso in an effort to somehow make himself warmer. It doesn’t help much, but it was all he could do with this inner conflict he had inside of him. He was internally screaming because he didn’t want to wake Brendon but he was also about to develop frostbite any second now. Deciding between letting someone you love be comfortable and your own comfort was always a debate but always had the same outcome.

Dallon pushes himself up again, this time leaning over Brendon’s side to get a better view of his face. Peering over Brendon’s naked shoulder peeking out of his bundle of blankets, Dallon gets a clear glimpse of the face of a sleeping Brendon Urie. He takes note of how peaceful Brendon seems to be. Eyebrows relaxed, lips parted slightly, breathing rhythmically in through his nose and out through his mouth. The only word that swims through Dallon’s ears is the word _beautiful_ as a small smile of adoration creeps across his lips without his knowledge. He realizes that he’s been staring down at him for a while when Brendon stirs slightly, taking him out of his trance. His breath catches in his throat, afraid to breathe, until Brendon stills again. Only then does Dallon relax, contemplating what he should do.

So Dallon does the only thing he really can do. He looks behind him towards the door and back at Brendon. He makes his way from the middle of the bed over to Brendon so he’s snuggled up right against his back. Bringing his arms around Brendon’s chest underneath the blanket, he pulls Brendon even closer to create that airtight seal between his chest and Brendon’s back, their bodies reuniting in that perfect jigsaw fashion as they had been in once before. This instantly warms Dallon’s front, but leaves his back and legs without warmth. But it was better than nothing at all. Brendon, of course, offers no resistance in his slumber, allowing Dallon to shift his position with ease. Once he’s confident he and brendon are as close as they could ever be, he peers down at the top of Brendon’s head. He hesitates at first, but is reassured by the fact that Brendon would never know before placing numerous, tiny kisses all over. His lips disappear in Brendon’s thick, dark hair briefly before Dallon finally rests his own head on top of Brendon’s exactly like he did before.

While Dallon can feel the cold prickling his skin, he’s able to rest his eyelids once more, knowing that at least Brendon was comfortably asleep in his arms. He may not admit it but he would do anything to make that boy happy even if he wouldn’t do the same.

. . .

And when Brendon is absolutely sure that Dallon has gone back to sleep, he reaches his hand out of his cocoon of warmth and intertwines his fingers with his best friend’s, careful not to make it too known as he drifted back to sleep with a stupid grin on his face.


End file.
